


As Arachnids Do

by IdlePace



Category: The Yogscast
Genre: Blood, Cannibalism, M/M, NSFW, Sexual Content, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-16
Updated: 2014-08-16
Packaged: 2018-02-13 10:42:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2147700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IdlePace/pseuds/IdlePace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Act, play out his role<br/>And then become the spider<br/>Consume your lover</p>
            </blockquote>





	As Arachnids Do

Cupboards do indeed fly when I get those cravings. The cupboards aren’t safe; neither is the fridge, the basement pantry and especially not even the freezer. I have to find something. There has to be something to quell my tongue within the blasted containers. The breast of a chicken, a can of tuna, even a placid hotdog would do. Just something with that swell of iron, that burst of salt and soft squish between my teeth.

When I find some small morsel, when I can finally shove the blasted thing into my waiting open jaws, I can almost close my eyes and feel at peace; almost, for a second or two. A shiver goes down my back and I crave more. You know it’s never enough, the replacements you give me, but that never stops you from trying, now does it?

I wonder if you’re trying to starve me; keeping away for so long. The longer you make me wait the worse the next visit is going to be. You say I go too far, but you know that’s a lie. I always keep you alive at the end of it don’t I? You’re too selfish for your own good. Why can’t you think of others? You’re keeping me here, starving me, its cruelty and no one phones the police for my shake.

I ask for so little; a nibble here and there. Maybe if I’m rather peckish a heftier chunk, but I always keep that pretty little body of yours intact. Sometimes I think I’m too kind for my own good, letting you have control over my meals as well as my freedom of mobility. Oh yes, you can keep letting yourself think that you’re in control, that your word is the one to listen to and mine are the ones to ignore, but that’s because I let you live in your head of ignorant bliss.

Now come home to me. I need your taste on my tongue again. I’ll play my part so well for you; you’ll never know reality from my stage presence. You can pet my hair, kiss my lips, take me in your arms, I won’t tell a soul. You can call me by his name, whisper it in my ear. I’ll moan just like he does and call your name so softly. Lead me like the way you love to.

Take us down to that mattress you sacrifice your sanity to, I’ll hold as your anchor; just give me an early snack. I’ll keep it light, something to tide me over before our swim into this bottomless lie. Your legs kick so well, but you can’t resist the lull as we rock with each wave you hit. Your shrieks, they pull me in closer, you sly siren. I’ll finish what I started, when the time we have permits.

Call me by the name you love, shout it louder, _louder_. Call me by _his_ name, by _his_ pet name, stutter _his_ letters. Pull my hair, grab me as hard as you please, I’ll let you do it all. You can call it passion; romance; _desire_ and I’ll gently keep to my thoughts of entertainment before a meal.

Direct me on what to do, tell me what to say, I’ll do it all to secure my reward. Of course, I’ll gladly scream your name, beg for your attention, and whisper the words you have rehearsed with me so well. Which part do I play tonight? You always tell me so hastily, as if our seconds are rare. Do not fret, I’m still here, I’ll always be here… waiting.

You always prefer for the predator to overtake you, don’t you? I could call you lazy; your part needs no work. I could joke about how many times we’ve been here before, but you haven’t told me to say those snide words, so I don’t. I’ll stay quiet, licking my lips as I wait. Predator is my favourite part; I do take pleasure in seeing you squirm under me, with your fear and animalistic lust. When you act on your embedded instincts, I almost think we’re the same. That we are so close to being one of the same mind, but as I catch your smell and hear the crack of your voice I know I’ve just been playing with my food for too long.

Call me by _his_ name! Say it, as I feel my stomach bubble with acid while my drool is lazily caught by my tongue. I can hear my body crave its nutrients as you fall further into your dream world. Your eyes close and it’s just like how you always wanted it to be. I can feel my guts growl and my teeth grit as I know my humouring of you is close to an end. I’ll pretend to care, that I’m there feeling the same as you. I’ll cry with your screams, and breathe with your pants and tense with your muscles. I’ll do it all; I am equipped, because you made me so. You made me to crave you so much that just shuddering with your ecstasy wasn’t enough for me; it couldn’t quench my undying thirst for you. What a shame for your miscalculations.

I wait for your nerves to die down, for your eyes to stop fluttering and your grip to release. I give you a moment of rest; I am a gentleman of course. Though once I hear your throat clear and your body shift, I know it’s my time to reap what I’ve earned.

Your shoulders are the best place to start, so tense from our previous mingling, so fun to bite into. Though that’s just to wet my tongue, satisfying you is very thirsty business. When I drink your warm tangy liquid you fall fast out of your state of bliss and lies. You’re so quick to whine when you know it’s my turn. You can call me deranged now, I won’t mind, now that you again fully realize I’m not _him_. Tell me how he would never do this and how better the real one is, I’ve heard it all before. As long as I can get my fill I don’t care what words you spew anymore. As long as you remember that you’re the one who comes back to me, who keeps me here like a selfish child, all for himself. Try and remember that.

When I move to your arms or the appetizers as I love to call them, your cries get softer. I try the best to coo you to ease, it’s so hard to digest when you’re voice stabs my ears. It will be alright, I’ll eat around the muscle, just your pure milky skin for this part. How dull and salty it is on my tongue. The small textures in your skin leads my tongue to wander, I can get quite gluttonous at this time, it’s so hard not to be when the soft meat separates between my teeth. Your blood as the gravy makes you so extra tender. I savour every bite as I grind each chunk to minuscule bits, chewing well is only polite.

The thighs, your thighs, are my favorite. I save them for last every time. Sure your other spots are a nice nip and I avoid your face because you fear questions, but your thighs are top quality. At times I stop myself to admire the marks I’ve riddled you with, stroking the beautiful regrown skin. You may be face down, muffled by your pillow but I can hear what you say. Cooking what I eat beforehand might be beneficial for my health but my response will always be the same. Before I dive into my meal I’ll rub all along the backs of your legs and tell you that you keep the meat warm enough already. I could be described as a romantic in those sorts.

I know it’s not as bad as you make it out to be, so why do you scream so loudly? It’s even louder than you did before when it was your turn. Your cries will do nothing to deter me from my long awaited feast. I can see the meat, the skin, it peels and flattens as my teeth pull it away from you. Again your blood brings a much needed tenderizer to your meat; you need to not work so hard, you’re making my meals so tough. When I go without this for so long I dream about what it will taste like again. At times I contemplate spices and seasonings, but nothing should ever distract me from how satisfying you already are.

Yes, call me an animal and curse that you ever made me, your blood flows so much nicer when you’re angry. Wonder aloud about what could have been if all the details were right, if I had been made perfect for you, but how am I not be perfect for you? I worship every span of your skin, every line of blood and mouthful I can gather. I can’t be too far off from your first envisions. You again just wanted to keep every part of your delicious body to yourself, never wanting to share. You wanted all of me but didn’t want to give anything back, so greedy. Now it looks like fate has turned for you and I’ve fallen in your lap, hungry and restless. You were so certain you could change me, steer me to what you wanted, but your will broke so easily when you knew my eyes were his. All I had to do was ask, and you gave so willingly.

So as you patch yourself up and I floss my teeth, don’t tell me that these moments have to stop. I know you will come back again, hungrier than me to find your fill. You say you have power and all the control, but let’s just remember who gives in to my gnawing teeth and well-acted eyes. I can make you crumble at any time, make you believe I hold your dreams, and as my teeth once again tear into your flesh, you’ll know you can never win.


End file.
